


No Magic Necessary

by Welfycat



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Community: angst_bingo, Everyone loves Isaac, Love Potion/Spell, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-01
Updated: 2012-12-01
Packaged: 2017-11-19 23:11:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,859
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/578649
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Welfycat/pseuds/Welfycat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Isaac doesn't know why everyone is suddenly paying attention to him, and flirting with him, and trying to touch him, but he'd really like them to stop.</p>
            </blockquote>





	No Magic Necessary

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Angst Bingo; Prompt: Love Spell Gone Wrong  
> Content Notes: Non-consensual kissing and touching (from multiple people) that is the result of a magic spell. Adults showing sexual interest in a teenager. Brief references to canon child abuse.  
> Author Notes: This plot was borrowed/modified from an early series episode of _Buffy the Vampire Slayer_ , but for the life of me I can't remember which episode it was. The alternate title I was playing with was: "Wasn't This an Episode of Buffy?" Slightly AU - Boyd and Erica are still around, no Peter, and Jackson's little lizard problem has been taken care of.

Isaac was semi-used to waking up next to someone when he spent the night in the pack den. They all gravitated toward each other like magnets circling a central point with their Alpha the strongest pull, and if they didn't fall asleep next to each other then the last person to sleep usually found someone to curl up with. What Isaac wasn't used to was waking up to someone petting his hair.

He wrinkled his nose as he woke and tried to scent whoever was behind him. Sometimes it was hard to separate the scents of the Betas when they were in the den, their scents mingling and overlapping until the entire place just smelt like pack. Derek though, Derek's scent was distinctly Alpha. Isaac let his eyes open and twitched his feet, making it clear that he was awake as if Derek couldn't already tell by his heartbeat. Derek didn't move away or stop petting him and Isaac wondered if this was maybe some sort of pack grooming thing or a care-taking impulse that had somehow broken through Derek's gruff exterior.

Only one way to find out. "Derek?"

"Yeah?" Derek asked, his fingers now concentrating on the curls right behind Isaac's ear.

"Uh, what are you doing?" Isaac asked, half waiting for Derek to do the sudden mood change thing that he did.

"I like your hair," Derek said placidly. His hand became flat as he started to smooth his palm over Isaac's head. "It's so soft."

Isaac stayed frozen for a minute, tense with the knowledge that Derek was still quicker and more powerful than he was, and he finally came to a decision: get out before this got any weirder. "I've got to go get ready for school," he said, despite not knowing the time or if it was even a weekday. He leapt to his feet and ran, glancing back only once to find Derek sitting surrounded by Isaac's blankets looking puzzled and forlorn. It was not a good look on Derek.

He dashed inside the bathroom, moderately grateful that Derek had gotten running water for the pack den and let them clean up the place a bit and do some basic remodeling so they had a shower and a refrigerator and everything. Sure, Derek's bedroom and office space was an abandoned subway car, but they worked with what they had. Isaac paused in front of the mirror and examined his hair, now much messier than usual thanks to Derek's bizarre ministrations. There was no use for it so Isaac took a quick shower - hot running water was not among the amenities the pack den boasted, it was lukewarm on a good day and today was apparently not a good day - and dried off and put his pants on while still in the shower stall. Erica didn't mind running through the shared bathroom naked and Boyd and Derek weren't exactly body shy, but Isaac at least preferred a modicum of decency concerning his own body.

He had exactly half a second to realize that someone else was in the bathroom with him before he was jumped on. Isaac was halfway to a growl before he realized the person he was half holding was Erica and the wall of flesh he'd backed into was Boyd. His packmates. Erica's lips were against his before he had time to react, her tongue probing against his lips as she tried to push her way inside his mouth. He bit instinctively, his teeth elongating and slipping over his lips as his wolf came out beyond his control, but that only seemed to encourage Erica. Boyd's hands were wandering over Isaac's sides and thighs, firm but far more gently than Boyd was capable of, and Isaac thrashed frantically before he started slashing with his claws at any bare skin he could find. He felt a sharp pain in his arms from Erica's claws but managed to skitter across the tile floor. Isaac kept his stance low, ready for another attack, but Erica and Boyd only seemed surprised and saddened by his escape.

"What the hell?" he asked, the words mostly a deep growl that reverberated in his throat.

"You don't want us?" Erica asked, her claws tucked away now and her shoulders slumped.

Boyd frowned. "We like you, Isaac."

Isaac shook his head in disbelief, feeling his own teeth and claws retract just from his sheer shock at what was happening. "What the hell?" he repeated and fled from the bathroom. He paused briefly to grab his shirt, jacket, and backpack from near his bed space, Derek nowhere in sight, and ran up the stairs and out into the early morning, chilly, spring air. Isaac was pedaling his bike away from the den at enhanced werewolf speeds by the time he realized where he was going. He needed help, even if this was just some weird pack-love thing he hadn't been filled in on, and Scott had been a werewolf longer than any of them except Derek. Scott might know what was happening.

*****

Isaac made it to Scott's house in what had to be a new land speed record for werewolf on bicycle. He briefly considered climbing up to Scott's bedroom window but the last time he'd done that he'd seen things progressing with Scott and Allison that he certainly did not want to see again. He rang the doorbell and waited and a few moments later Scott's mom answered the door. She was dressed in her hospital outfit and seemed momentarily surprised to see him.

"Is Scott home, ma'am?" Isaac asked, nearly as surprised to see her. Whenever he had come over to Scott's house his mom hadn't been home and Isaac had kinda gotten the idea that she was usually at work or busy.

"No need to call me ma'am," she said as she very visibly considered him. "Makes me feel old. Call me Melissa."

"Yes, ma'am," Isaac mumbled, feeling very much like he was nine again and going over to see if a friend could come out to play. Of course, when he'd been nine no one had looked him over like Mrs. McCall was doing right now.

"Well, Scott has already gone to school, something about an early lacrosse practice. Which is where you should be too, right?" she asked as she took a step closer, her lips curving up in a smile. "Unless you're skipping practice."

"No, ma'am," Isaac said. He didn't remember anything about an early lacrosse practice, especially since they were post-season. Which meant Scott had lied to leave early and Isaac knew enough to cover for him. "It was probably only for the guys on first line."

She nodded. "I don't know why a young man as fit as you are isn't on first line. Maybe next season. Anyway, you can come over any time you like, Isaac. Any time. Why don't you come in and have breakfast?" she asked, reaching forward and ruffling Isaac's windblown hair.

Isaac backed away and shook his head so quickly that it probably looked like a blur. "No, thank you. I have to go to school. Bye, Mrs. McCall," he said and made a break for his bike. He made it all the way to the school bike rack and still hadn't reached a decision on whether or not that was what it had sounded like or if he was just going crazy. Maybe the werewolf thing eventually drove people crazy, just like Peter Hale. Peter was creepy crazy, Scott was crazy in love, and Derek was plain crazy crazy.

He made it through the front doors of the school and three steps down the hallway before he realized that everyone was staring at him. After a brief panic that he'd wolfed out without noticing - his claws, teeth, and ears were all distinctly human, a quick glance in the reflective surface of a window assured him - he decided maybe he wasn't going crazy after all. Just everyone else was.

Isaac continued walking, his skin bristling as he heard people whisper loudly as soon as he'd passed them, and the gazes followed him all the way to his locker. It was almost like the day after he'd returned to school as soon as he wasn't a fugitive any longer. At least then people had pretended not to stare at him, but he'd caught their glances and not so quiet whispers anyway. With his enhanced hearing he had to listen every time someone speculated that he had killed his dad, and then of course the person being whispered to would remark that considering he had been getting beaten that it was totally justified, and so on back and forth until he had heard the rumor mill spit out that he had evidently murdered his dad by hacking him up with a chain saw and that his dad had been locking him up in the basement. It wasn't quite the truth but parts of it were close enough that Isaac had skipped the rest of the week until the school found something else to gossip about.

Of course now the whispers were all about the way his pants fit on his hips, and his shoulders inside his jacket, and his _soulful_ eyes, and a lot about his _gorgeous_ curly hair that looked like it would be as soft as feathers to touch. Isaac self consciously smoothed his hand over his hair, only to set off sighs of delight from a group of people standing near his locker. It was better than the whispers he was getting two months ago, but only slightly. At least then he hadn't had to worry about hands questing to touch his ass. He quickly shoved his hands in his pockets and hurried to class, keeping his head down and his attention devoted to searching for the sound of Scott somewhere in the school.

The bell rang and Isaac took a seat in the back of the English classroom where he hopefully couldn't be stared at too much, and he resigned himself to a really awkward day. Neither Scott nor Stiles showed up for class, which probably meant that trouble was probably brewing somewhere in Beacon Hills and they would all be right in the middle of it. As usual.

*****

He made it through almost an entire school day relatively unmolested, though by the time he reached his sixth period gym class he'd lost count of the number of hands that had squeezed his ass or ran along his arm. In trigonometry, where seating was assigned, the girl sitting behind him had spent the entire class period with her fingers in his hair. Isaac had no idea what it was about his hair that was making everyone so crazy, particularly since he'd spent most of middle school in a desperate attempt to keep it short so it couldn't curl. Gym had started five minutes ago, but after bumping into Coach Finstock in the hallway earlier that morning Isaac had made a conscious choice to be late for gym so he wouldn't have to change in front of everyone. That would have been tempting fate and Isaac felt he'd done enough of that for one life time.

The locker room was quiet when he slipped inside. They were doing a unit on soccer so it was likely that everyone was already out on the field warming up. He went to his locker and pulled his shirt over his head, digging past his dirty lacrosse shirts in search of a gym shirt that didn't smell too badly.

"There you are," a voice said. Danny's voice.

Isaac spun around, his heart in his throat, and he stared warily at where Jackson and Danny were slowly approaching. "Uh, shouldn't you be in class?" he asked, feeling behind him for where he'd dropped his shirt.

"Coach sent us to look for you. We thought it was a good idea. We wouldn't want you wandering off and getting into trouble," Jackson said, a step closer than Danny as his eyes roamed Isaac's chest in obvious appreciation.

"You're our teammate," Danny added with a genuine smile. "We have to stick together."

Isaac's hand closed on the fabric of his shirt about the same time Jackson's fingertips skimmed across Isaac's shoulder, running from his arm to the hollow of his throat. Isaac made a noise that he couldn't describe but was probably completely undignified and he shivered when his bare back bumped up against the cool metal of the lockers. He didn't bother with an explanation or with closing his locker, he just dodged to the right, taking advantage of Jackson's unsteady footing in the narrow aisle, and then ducked Danny's outstretched hands and vaulted over a bench. Seconds later he was running down the empty hallway, a small part of his mind insisting that if that had been on the lacrosse field it would have been an awesome maneuver.

Before he reached the main stretch of the hallway, as soon as he was sure he wasn't being followed, he tugged his shirt back on and pulled his cellphone out of his pocket. He brought up Scott's name in his contacts list and started typing out a text with one hand as he walked. ' **I need help! Where are you? This is an emergency!** ' he typed and then hit send, all the while hoping that Scott, Allison, and Stiles weren't involved in an actual werewolf emergency somewhere considering he hadn't seen any of them at school all day. At his locker he unloaded all of his books from his backpack, he couldn't even remember what homework had been assigned that day, and then pulled on his leather jacket. There were still another two class periods to go but Isaac couldn't care less; his new plan was to get somewhere hidden and alone until Scott texted him back.

He snuck out through the side door of the school and jogged to the bike rack, his phone buzzing when he was most of the way there. It was a text from Scott. ' **At the Argent's house. Meet me there.** ' Isaac scowled at his cellphone for a moment, because the last thing he wanted to do when he was apparently cursed or something was go knocking on the door of werewolf Hunters hoping they wouldn't shoot him on sight. A glance back at the school revealed the vice principal standing in the doorway. Isaac used his claws to tear open his bike chain and pedaled away as quickly as he could manage while staying upright. Werewolf Hunters or not, if he wanted this to stop then he needed help. Good thing he knew where the Argent's house was, even if that was only because he'd followed Scott's scent there more than once.

*****

One of the advantages, and in this case disadvantages, of being a werewolf meant that he arrived at the Argent's house maybe seven minutes after he left the school, not even slightly winded from the journey. He dumped his bike next to the front steps and spent another minute on the doorstep as he debated whether or not it was safer to ring the doorbell or just jump up to Allison's window. He figured his chances of getting shot either way were still about fifty-fifty, so he rang the doorbell and splayed his hands to make it clear he was unarmed and not wolfed-out. Another advantage of being a werewolf was that he could 'draw' his teeth and claws faster than almost any Hunter could reach for a weapon, but he'd been torn up by enough Hunters that he had what he figured was a healthy fear of what they could do.

The door opened and Chris Argent looked at Isaac. And then he smiled.

Isaac swallowed hard, glanced down to see that Argent's hands were empty, and then watched him as best he could without looking into his eyes. "Mr. Argent, uh, is Allison home? I need to ask her a question."

"Isaac, it's been a while," Argent said, opening the door wider.

_'You mean it's been a while since the last time you tried to kill me,'_ Isaac thought. "Yes, sir," he answered aloud. "So, may I speak to Allison?"

"Of course, come in. She's upstairs in her room. I'll walk you up," Argent said, taking a step back and holding the door open.

Isaac looked at the doorway and then at Argent. He wondered how it was possible that it felt like Argent was the wolf and Isaac was the sheep being invited into the wolves' den. The way Argent was looking at him, his smile too bright and his eyes hungry, Isaac certainly felt like he was about to become a meal. He stepped inside and sifted uncomfortably as he looked down at the scuffed toes of his shoes.

Chris Argent settled his hand on Isaac's shoulder as they walked up the stairs, his fingers pressing firmly but not painfully. "How are you doing? We should talk more, Isaac. Don't you think?"

"Yes, sir," Isaac answered dutifully. He couldn't believe that he actually preferred Chris Argent when there was a gun in his hands.

"You should come by the house more often," Argent continued. "Maybe when you're done talking with Allison you can come downstairs. We can have a cup of coffee and talk. You drink coffee, don't you?"

"Uh, sometimes," Isaac answered. He'd drunk coffee quite often before he'd been bit, keeping a thermos with him on the late nights in the graveyard both for the warmth and for the caffeine. Now with his enhanced senses he found all but the weakest brewed coffee to be too potent and the caffeine didn't do anything for him anymore.

"The senses, right," Argent said as they reached Allison's door. "Tea, perhaps. Allison, you have a visitor," he called as he knocked.

Allison opened her bedroom door a minute later, Isaac's enhanced hearing registering the sound of the window opening and footsteps on the roof before Allison's quiet steps reached the door. "Isaac," she said, brightening visibly when she saw him. Her hand snaked out and and her fingers wrapped around Isaac's wrist, tugging him into her room with surprising strength. "Thanks for bringing him, dad!"

Isaac stared and leaned against Allison's wall as Allison shut the door and grinned at him. "Is Scott here?" he asked, not caring that his voice was tinged with desperation.

"Here," Scott said, ducking back in through the window. "Hey. Allison's home with a cold and I wanted to spend the day with her. I'm glad you came by."

"Right," Isaac said, glancing around the room, taking in the pile of tissues on Allison's nightstand and the fluffy slippers on her feet. "Scott, something weird is happening," he said, his eyes crossing a little as Allison moved in closer and settled her head on his shoulder.

"Weird?" Scott asked, apparently unperturbed by his girlfriend pressing herself up against Isaac.

Isaac very carefully brought his hands to Allison's upper arms and moved her a few inches away. "People are interested in me. Very interested," he said, his eyes focusing on where Allison's hand had come up to cover his and thread his fingers with hers.

"Why wouldn't they be?" Scott asked, his voice suddenly coming from next to Isaac's shoulder. "You're a very interesting person. Especially your eyes."

Isaac sighed, letting Scott cup his chin and bring his jaw over so he was looking down into Scott's eyes. "Not you too. You have a girlfriend. She's right here." He took Scott's free hand and awkwardly placed it on Allison's shoulder.

Isaac's hands occupied with Scott allowed Allison to move closer to Isaac and press her body against his side. "I don't mind. We can share. Scott and I are very good at sharing," she said, smiling up first at Scott and then at Isaac.

With his shoulders slumped, letting the wall take his weight as Scott and Allison resting against him with their touches gentle against his face and arms, Isaac considered his options. He'd set all his hopes on Scott saying something about how ridiculous it all was and then coming up with a solution. Scott usually managed to fix things, Isaac had gotten used to Derek and Scott and Stiles coming up with the plan to save the town, and then they all went out and kicked the ass of whatever was trying to kill everyone. "Have you seen Stiles today?" Isaac asked, though he'd moved onto wondering if this was a local thing. If he could get far enough away from Beacon Hills, maybe it would stop.

Scott looked up from where he was nuzzling Isaac's shoulder. "Nope. He was busy with something last night, so I haven't seen him since school yesterday. Wasn't he at school?"

"No," Isaac said shortly, shrugging his shoulders to dislodge Scott and Allison.

"Good idea," Allison said as she reached for Isaac's hand. "My bed is way more comfortable."

Isaac didn't bother looking back as he dodged Allison's hand and darted for the window that Scott had left open. The roof was steeper than he was expecting and he found himself airborne for a brief moment before he hit the driveway. A startled shriek sent him rolling away reflexively and he stared up at Lydia and scrambled away with wide eyes.

"You!" Lydia gasped, one of her hands resting just beneath her throat as she regained control over her breathing. "What the hell?"

"Sorry," Isaac said, realizing he'd probably almost hit her when he'd fallen. He pushed himself to his feet and dusted himself off, feeling the scrapes on his hands and legs already healing.

"What are you doing?" Lydia asked, folding her ams and looking up pointedly to the roof before raising her eyebrows meaningfully.

Isaac shook his head, out of answers and out of energy to try to explain. "What are you doing?" he asked back reflexively.

"I'm bringing Allison homework from the classes we share because she's sick," Lydia answered and stepped towards the door, and coincidentally, towards Isaac.

Isaac flinched away, so very done with people touching him, but Lydia jolted to a stop as soon as he moved away.

"What's wrong with you?" Lydia asked, and there was a hint of concern in her voice.

"You haven't even tried to touch me," Isaac realized out loud. "You don't like me?"

Lydia stared, her lips parted as she searched for an answer. "You're alright, I guess."

Isaac felt his heartbeat quickening. "But you're not attracted to me?"

Lydia looked Isaac up and down critically. "Maybe a little. You need clothes that actually fit you. What is it with boys and wearing clothes that look like they're about to fall off?"

"Thank god," Isaac said, and Lydia was suddenly his favorite person in the whole world. "You're immune!" he exclaimed, and it would have been good to know before now that it applied to things besides werewolf bites.

Lydia's lips went tight. "Are you going to tell me what's going on or am I leaving?"

Isaac grimaced. "You're not going to believe this, but people have been following me, and touching me, and flirting with me. All day. They keep petting my hair and grabbing my ass and more than one person has tried to kiss me. I know it sounds crazy, but I swear."

"I believe you," Lydia said with a thoughtful nod. "All day I've been hearing people gossiping about how hot someone is, though I never caught the name. Though really, it was Jackson sitting next to me in seventh period waxing poetic about the most beautiful boy on the lacrosse team. And since he swore up and down he wasn't talking about Danny, I'm going to guess that he was talking about you."

"Beautiful?" Isaac repeated in monotone.

Lydia looked him up and down. "When this is over I'll take you clothes shopping, and then we'll talk."

"There you are!" Scott called, peering down over the edge of the roof. "Come back up here, Isaac. Allison shouldn't leave the house while she's sick."

Isaac shot Lydia a pleading look, one that he hoped said _'please don't leave me here'_.

Lydia sighed. "Get in the car."

Isaac scrambled into the passenger seat of Lydia's car, catching a glimpse of where Chris Argent was looking out the front window. "Drive," he said urgently as soon as Lydia was in the driver's seat.

"I'm going. Relax, it's not like they're zombies," Lydia said.

"Whatever," Isaac said, slumping down in the seat in hopes that no one would see him. "Where are we going?"

"Deaton's. Stiles says that when something goes wrong with werewolves to take them there. Don't even ask me how I got roped into being werewolf-sitter, because Stiles just started talking to me, in the school library of all places, and apparently he expects me to help corral all of you now. Which, for the record, is not happening. I'm helping you because Allison is my friend and I'm pretty sure she doesn't want you as a conquest. She's very attached to the one guy at a time thing," Lydia said as she drove through the town.

Isaac shook his head in disbelief. "Fair enough," he said. Dr. Deaton was probably not a bad place to go, all things considered, but Isaac might just lock himself in the quarantine room if Deaton didn't know how to make this stop.

*****

Isaac was tempted to make Lydia check Deaton's waiting room before they went inside but the only car in the parking lot was Deaton's sedan so he decided it wasn't worth the fight. If he perhaps darted to the front door and raced inside without holding the door for Lydia, well, it had been a long day and while nearby road wasn't exactly busy he didn't want to take any chances. Lydia rolled her eyes as she opened the door and stepped inside, shaking her head as she stepped up to the counter. "Dr. Deaton?" she called.

"I'll be right there," Deaton called back and a moment later he stepped out from the back room while stripping latex gloves from his hands. "Can I help-" he cut himself off as soon as he got a good look at Isaac and then took a step back. "Oh my."

"Damn it," Isaac muttered, eyeing the door and mentally mapping a route to the edge of the woods. Not that he'd be any better off out there either with the number of werewolves in Beacon Hills.

"Can you fix him?" Lydia asked. "Because right now I'm apparently the only person in the entire town who isn't trying to jump his bones."

Deaton sighed. "I'll see what I can do. In the mean time, Isaac, let's get you back in the exam room."

Isaac's eyes widened and he took a step back. "I think I'll just stay here, if it's all the same."

Deaton held his hands out, clearly trying to appear harmless. "Actually I just thought it might be better for you to be in the exam room because that is where the strongest concentration of mountain ash is situated in this building."

"What will that do, exactly?" Lydia asked, interested despite her previous protests.

"I'm hoping it will mute the effects enough of whatever has influenced you that I can determine the cause," Deaton said. "Believe me, I have no intention of coming closer than necessary. In fact, I'm going to step into my office and gather research materials while you head into the exam room. Lydia, if you'd turn my sign to 'Closed' and lock the door, please."

Isaac waited until he heard Deaton shut his door and his footsteps pacing on the floor within before he walked past the swinging gate and into the exam room. He could feel the mountain ash surrounding him, not a complete circle that he couldn't break through, but it settled around his wolf like a heavy blanket. At first he'd found it a little stifling to be in the veterinary clinic but after spending some time there with Scott he had learned how to relax into the invisible presence and let it contain his wolf for him. Lydia followed, distracted by some of the art on Deaton's wall as she circled the room.

"There we are, but I think I'll stay out here, just to be safe," Deaton said, standing in the doorway.

"Are these runes?" Lydia asked as she examined a painting.

"You've been researching. I have book on rune design and creation, if you're interested," Deaton offered, his voice full of approval.

Lydia looked around the room, her eyes deftly avoiding Isaac, and then nodded. "I suppose it can't hurt to read a book," she said, her voice betraying her interest.

"I'll get it for you after we've solved our most recent problem. Let's see what we have here," Deaton said, turning his focus to Isaac. "Stand still."

Isaac swallowed hard and stood as still as he could, resisting the urge to duck his head or shift away under the intense gazes of both Deaton and Lydia. "What do you see?" he asked after they'd been staring for what seemed like a very long time.

"It seems like someone has been attempting to influence your aura," Deaton said, his frown deepening. "Usually when I see you, I see greens and sulfur, more green than sulfur as time has passed, but currently the green is being clouded over by strands of purple and red."

Isaac glanced at Lydia and was relieved to see that she looked about as skeptical and as lost as he felt. "What does that mean?" he asked, deciding not to bother questioning the existence of auras considering he was a werewolf. Impossible didn't have much of a place in his vocabulary anymore.

Deaton raised his eyebrows and leaned against the door frame. "It means that someone has cast a web of magic over you; a spell, if you prefer. An attraction and lust spell, and a rather potent one at that."

"How does that work, exactly?" Lydia asked, but Isaac shook his head and stepped forward and then he abruptly stepped back again when he remembered he shouldn't be moving closer to Deaton.

"Why is the more important question here. Why would anyone want to cast a spell on me to make everyone in the town want me? People keep touching my hair!" Isaac exclaimed, beyond frustrated and a little freaked out.

"I don't think that they did," Deaton said thoughtfully. "Intent is of the utmost importance when casting magic and it's highly likely that this is the work of someone who isn't overly familiar with magic that isn't bound to an object. As far as I'm aware there is only one person in Beacon Hills who has been newly experimenting with magic."

Isaac and Lydia looked at each other and in one voice said, "Stiles."

"This can be reversed, right?" Isaac asked Deaton while Lydia called Stiles on her cellphone.

"That depends on what magic Stiles was using, assuming we have indeed found the correct magic caster," Deaton said, smiling gently at Isaac's increased worry. "But it's highly likely it will be as simple as having Stiles end the spell. I wouldn't fret overly until we know for certain."

"He's on his way," Lydia said, dropping her phone back in her purse with a slight shake of her head. "He was still asleep at four in the afternoon, if you can believe that. And speaking of the time, since this is under control, I have other things to do with my day. So I'll be going now."

"Let me get that book for you," Deaton said, leading Lydia from the exam room.

Isaac rolled his eyes and leaned against the exam table. A Pomeranian in a cage on the opposite counter gave a small whine and pressed its paws against the metal wires. "Don't even think about it," Isaac told the dog. He didn't want to know if this spell worked on species other than humans and werewolves and he certainly wasn't planning on finding out.

The question of 'why' had been turning over in Isaac's mind ever since he'd asked Deaton and they'd decided that Stiles was likely responsible. After some consideration he wondered if maybe Stiles had been trying to cast a love spell at Lydia, and because of her immunity it had somehow refracted onto Isaac and gotten all messed up. It made about as much sense as anything else that had happened that day. He drummed his fingers against the table and let his wolf press out against the confines of the mountain ash, staring at the runes Lydia had found in the paintings while he waited as patiently as possible for Stiles to show up.

*****

A rapid knocking at the front door drew both Isaac and Deaton's attention and Deaton shook his head when Isaac moved to the doorway. "Wait here, I'll let him in and explain the situation. I'd rather not test the strength of the mountain ash agains the spell if it isn't necessary," Deaton said and walked from the room without waiting for Isaac to respond.

Isaac tipped his head back and focused on listening to the Deaton's footsteps on the tile floor and then the door opening and closing.

"What's wrong? Lydia just said something was wrong with Isaac?" Stiles asked, sounding almost frantic even through the distance. "Where's Scott and Derek and everyone else? We're not all hands on deck for this?"

"They're not here, fortunately for Isaac. I need to know what magic you've been dabbling with in the last twenty four hours. Leave nothing out," Deaton said, remarkably patient considering his veterinary clinic was constantly being overrun with teenaged werewolves.

"Oh," Stiles said quietly, so quietly that Isaac nearly missed it from where he was listening.

Isaac shook his head and started pacing, focusing his sense of hearing on the sound of his own footfalls on the floor so he wouldn't have to listen to Stiles explain how he hadn't meant for this to happen. Five minutes later Stiles peered into the exam room, clearly uncertain, but equally clearly unaffected by the magic surrounding Isaac.

"I am so sorry," Stiles said earnestly, his gaze falling to the floor before he looked up at Isaac again. "I didn't mean for this to happen, I swear. This wasn't listed anywhere in the book, at all, and I wouldn't have cast it if I'd thought it worked like that."

"I believe you," Isaac said and shrugged when Stiles looked incredulous. "Why would you want the entire town to think I'm the best thing since sliced bread?"

The corner of Stiles' mouth quirked up and he stepped inside and placed everything he was carrying on the table. "Fortunately it's an easy fix. Though, I didn't realize how much energy casting took out of me. I must have passed out last night and didn't even wake up until Lydia called me. She wasn't influenced by the spell at all?"

Isaac looked down and watched as Stiles set up three candles and a variety of objects he couldn't identify but he thought he saw a small bone in the collection, all followed by a ring of dark sand around everything. "Nope. Didn't even look at me twice except to comment that my clothes don't fit very well," he said, purposefully ignoring the possibility that the spell had been intended for Lydia.

Stiles laughed. "Well, that's Lydia. Okay, here we go. Just, don't move for a second because I have to focus on you and you're a little distracting."

"Distracting?" Isaac asked, reconsidering the thought that Stiles hadn't been affected by the spell.

Stiles made a shushing noise and use a match to light the three candles and then held his hands palms together over the candles. Isaac watched while Stiles look a steadying breath and then looked up into Isaac's eyes. " _Omnia fiant_ ," he said slowly, clearly working with unfamiliar words, and then he drew his hands apart quickly until his palms were almost facing outward. The candles went out at the movement and the circle of sand dispersed into long streaks like a sunburst.

They stood in silence, not looking away from each other until Stiles let out a heavy breath and wiped his hands on his pants. "That should do it, I think," he said, smiling apologetically again. "I really, really didn't mean for this to happen."

"I know," Isaac said. He didn't need to be told twice that no one would be interested in casting a love spell on him.

"It was just supposed to be an attention spell," Stiles continued. "I wanted you to notice me."

Isaac blinked, certain that he'd heard that wrong. "I notice you," he said uncertainly. "You don't have to cast a spell on me to get my attention."

Stiles shifted on his feet. "Yeah?"

"Yeah," Isaac agreed. "I notice you, all the time. I just didn't think you'd be interested in someone like me."

"Because you're a werewolf?" Stiles asked, walking slowly around the table while watching Isaac. "Dude, in case you have noticed, Scott is still my best friend. Most of my social circle consists of werewolves."

"No, not because I'm a werewolf." Isaac shook his head and looked away from Stiles' gaze, biting his lips as he fought the word resting on his tongue. "Damaged," he finally made himself say, the word almost too loud for the space surrounding them.

"Maybe," Stiles allowed. "Maybe I am too. But I like you, and maybe it sounds like you like me too? Because that would be a huge step up for me."

Isaac nodded wordlessly, his hands clutched on the edge of the table as he used the cold metal to ground himself.

"Are you okay?" Stiles asked suddenly, turning to Isaac. "You know, spell damage and everything?"

"Well, I'm never going to be able to look at Mr. Argent again. Or the Coach. Or Scott's mom. Or Mr. Harris," Isaac said with a shudder.

"Ugh," Stiles agreed, cringing. "You didn't run into my dad out there, did you?"

"He tried to pull me over for speeding," Isaac said, his mind flickering to where Sheriff Stilinski had tried to flag him down on the road leading from the school. "I was on my bicycle."

Stiles groaned. "So, I suppose now is a really bad time to ask you if you want to go out to dinner?"

"Dinner sounds good," Isaac said, his stomach growling at the suggestion of food. "But, on one condition."

"Name it," Stiles said, a tentative smile at the corners of his mouth.

"Never use magic on me again," Isaac said, and then reconsidered. "Unless I'm dying or there's a fight with Hunters or something like that, and you're doing it to save us."

"Deal," Stiles agreed. "I swear that my magic will remain a metaphor for our lesbianism and never a metaphor for addiction."

Isaac started laughing, unable to help himself. "Does this make me Oz or Tara? Because it could go either way."

Stiles punched his fist in the air. "Yes! Yes! Buffy fan! I knew it! And you're Oz, unless you do magic. Do you do magic?"

Isaac grinned and ducked his head. "I don't. But I think that's a good thing. I'm not sure Beacon Hills could survive another person casting spells."

"I'm never buying a spell book from eBay again, that much I can say right now," Stiles said as he started cleaning up the table and dropping his assortment of objects into a small pouch. "So, where do we want to go for dinner?"

"Stiles," Deaton said as he stepped into the room. "You're not going anywhere until we talk about intent and casting magic on werewolves."

Stiles looked back to Isaac. "Dinner at six? I'll pick you up?"

"You know where to find me," Isaac said, taking an experimental step closer to Deaton and nodding when Deaton didn't even blink in his direction. "Thank you," he told Deaton and he left the veterinary clinic with a bounce in his step. He made it halfway back to the Argent's house, intending to pick up his bike before heading to the pack den, and then realized he had pretty much nothing decent to wear for dinner on what would be his first date ever.

"Lydia, it's an emergency," Isaac said as soon as Lydia answered her cellphone. "Can you meet me at the mall?"

Lydia sighed. "You owe me big time."

"Anything," Isaac promised.

The line was silent for a moment while Lydia considered. "Details. I want all the details until further notice."

Isaac blushed and moved to the edge of the sidewalk so people could walk by without him obstructing their path. No one paid him a bit of attention and Isaac couldn't be more relieved. "Deal," he said finally, grinning wide as he thought about what Stiles would say when he told him that Lydia Martin wanted to know the details of their date, no magic necessary.


End file.
